


Lip

by Phelidae



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Hux Has Anxiety, Kylo Attempts Comfort, Kylux Cantina, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 00:56:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13823088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phelidae/pseuds/Phelidae
Summary: Hux hosts a banquet after the construction of Starkiller Base. Kylo is there too.





	Lip

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt fill for the [Kylux Cantina](http://kyluxcantina.tumblr.com). The prompt was "whisper your dirty secrets to me in a room full of people we both despise" but it kind of turned into "whisper the dirty secrets of others to me in a room full of people we both despise". 
> 
> This was supposed to be short, but I lost control. I look forward to filling more of these prompts. Like, a lot. 
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://phelidae.tumblr.com), so you can find me there a bit as well.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

The room is bustling with people, all higher ups within the First Order. Many of them are familiar faces, some are from off-ship entirely. It's the biggest event they've hosted on the Finalizer since Hux became general. The construction of Starkiller Base concluded the previous evening and the energy both on base and aboard the Finalizer has been simultaneously fluid with relief and tense with the crew's poorly smothered desire to celebrate.

Phasma had mentioned the idea in passing one morning over their usual pre-shift coffee. He had been dismissive initially, but had warmed to the idea over the next few hours. His crew had worked hard, and though Hux truly detested social gatherings, he had decided that they had earned the break. It would be good for morale.

He'd had it cleared with Snoke by the evening of the same day. After deliberating back and forth with himself for a few days and then eventually giving in and turning to Phasma for advice, they decided that the largest meeting hall would be best suited to host the banquet. The other portion of the celebration, where the rest of the crew is, is taking place a few levels below in the canteen. He imagines there will be music and plenty of over imbibing.

The environment here, however, is politely subdued. There's a low hum of conversation and the occasional clinking of glass as drinks are replaced onto trays that are then carried away by droids. Hux observes the crowd during a brief respite in conversation. He's outranked by several of the attendees here and the knowledge makes his skin feel slightly too tight. He's grown comfortable in the status quo that he has established on the Finalizer. A foolish mistake. Complacency is the quickest route to one's destruction.

So far, he's had both his age and bloodline remarked upon by a young captain he'd never met within the first three minutes of their conversation. Hux hasn't even finished his second drink. He deliberates on the wisdom of continuing to drink. He's not certain if he needs his wits to survive this evening or if he needs to be pleasantly numbed in order to persevere without lashing out and saying something untoward.

So many of the people here would delight in his failure. A hole at the top means several shifts in position for those down below. He cannot begrudge them their opportunism, but he can certainly loathe them all the same.

His left hand holds the delicate stem of his wine glass, fingers cradling it with a casual grace that his father had instilled into him years ago. His right hand is buried in the pocket of his black dress trousers, an indecency that his father had attempted to break him of years ago. Unfortunately, it's the only way Hux can dig his fingers into his upper thigh, pinching the skin hard enough that the sharp pain of it clears his head of the cacophony of thoughts that are trying to overwhelm him.

It's not working as well as it usually does, he can feel the threat of sweat at the back of his neck and has to bury the desire to crinkle his nose at the sensation.

An older woman is approaching him and Hux's stomach drops when he realizes that he doesn't remember her name. He recognizes her face, knows she's important within the First Order, but his mind is blank. It's so out of character for himself that he's torn between shock at his forgetfulness and worry at the thought of offending the woman. He's opening his mouth to offer a generic greeting when it happens.

_Esthhar Mallac. She was one of the leading advisors within the First Order Security Bureau during the cold war._

It's certainly not the first time he's been so intruded upon within a public space, but that doesn't make it any less jarring.

He forces him to drop some of the tension in his shoulders and decidedly doesn't look over his shoulder. He knows Kylo could be anywhere in the room, despite how the voice in his head always sounds like it's coming from just behind him. Hux wasn't aware that Ren was in attendance at all this evening. He'd assumed he would spend the time meditating, or prowling in some dark corner of Hux's ship.

"Esthhar," Hux greets evenly, snapping back to the present moment and slipping into his role as general and host.

"General," Mallac responds with a small nod. There's a sharpness to her gaze that makes Hux want to straighten his shoulders, but he resists the impulse. He has nothing to prove to her.

She remarks on the gathering and Hux responds in kind. It's an easy and familiar back and forth, pleasantries exchanged between two people who care not at all for where they currently find themselves. Trite. He feels himself relaxing slightly and uses the rest of his focus on scanning the crowd in between the moments of requisite eye contact, looking for Kylo.

He finally finds him, prowling in the corner, when one of the overhead lights glints off of the silver bands that decorate Kylo's mask.

The mask. He's wearing the ridiculous mask. Of course he is. It's jarring amongst the sea of faces. The pits of black where he knows Kylo's eyes hide are clearly locked onto Hux. Months ago he'd have felt pinned. Now, he just feels mildly annoyed. He's painfully out of place and Hux can only imagine the questions he's going to have to answer about the mysterious giant looming in the corner.

_They aren't looking at me_ , Kylo's voice says in Hux's head.

Hux doesn't let himself roll his eyes, but he imagines it, and hopes that the impact is the same.

_You can't honestly believe that. Guests on this ship actively look for the famous Kylo Ren. We should start charging admission. ___

_They won't notice me_ , Kylo replies, smugness oozing from the words and seeping into Hux's own mind. Right. 

_Yes, very impressive. You can use your magic to make people ignore you. Now, I'm in the middle of something, if you don't mind stepping out of my head?_

There is no response, but Hux can feel Kylo still lurking in his mind. Hux thinks hard about how much of childish bother he finds Kylo to be before he returns his focus to the conversation with Mallac. They conclude a few minutes later and Hux is left to drift alone once more, sipping at his nearly empty glass. 

_You hate these things_ , says Kylo. 

_I do. But they are necessary._

_You’re uncomfortable._

_I would think that at this point I’ve more than proved that I can handle a little discomfort._

_You’re biting your lip._

Hux freezes, the skin of his inner lip caught between his teeth. He releases it immediately and finishes off his glass of wine. He hadn’t even realized. He almost wants to thank Kylo for pointing it out, it wouldn’t do to be caught gnawing at his lip in a moment of stress induced anxiety, but he decides instead to ignore the subject entirely. He exchanges his empty glass for a full one from a passing droid. 

_When did you get here?_ Hux asks. 

_Just in time to save you from embarrassing yourself._ Hux grits his teeth but Kylo continues before he can reply. He feels amusement echoing in his head, and it certainly isn't his own. _I've been at the other...party._

Hux has an even harder time imagining Kylo there than he does seeing him here. He tries to make sure his smirk is audible, if not visible. 

_And how was that?_

_Loud_ , is Kylo's only reply. 

He’s on the verge of addressing Kylo again, wanting to ask after Phasma, when somebody approaches him from his left. Hux turns to see Chadar Bracbin, an old acquaintance of Hux’s father. He swallows against a sudden sour taste that fills his mouth, gripping Bracbin’s offered hand in a quick shake. He is reminded of how very glad for his gloves and the barrier they provide between him and everybody else. Especially Chadar Bracbin. 

"Armitage,” the old man fairly bellows, a touch too loud for the peaceful environment in the room. He garners a few glances. Hux feels his shoulders rise with tension once more. 

“Chadar,” Hux greets, voice tight to his own ears. He can only hope that Bracbin’s self-involved nature keeps him from observing Hux too closely. 

“You’ve done well for yourself,” he says with a sweeping gesture to what Hux assumes is meant to include the entirety of the Finalizer. Hux watches as a drop of amber liquid falls from his glass with the movement. A droid will no doubt be along soon to clean it up. 

“Yes,” Hux agrees. There is no room for modesty in Hux’s life. He has done well, the Finalizer is everything to him. He won’t deny her grandiosity. 

“I suppose it kept you quite busy over the years, eh?” Bracbin prods, one of his grey eyebrow raising and further wrinkling his forehead. 

Hux can immediately tell where this is going and he feels an icy wash of dread start to seep down his shoulders. 

_Lip_ , comes Kylo’s voice. It surprises a twitch out of Hux, but he barely registers the warning. He’s locked onto Bracbin, waiting. 

“I suppose it might be the only thing in the galaxy that could excuse you from missing your father’s funeral.” Bracbin’s voice is light and companionable on the surface, like he’s teasing a favorite nephew, but his eyes are hard and Hux suddenly feels a sharp sting of pain, tastes copper. 

He cannot believe the old man's audacity. To come here, aboard _Hux's_ ship, and start slinging sloppily shrouded accusations as if-- 

__

__

_Ask him about Isabella._

It’s enough of a non-sequitur that it jars Hux back to himself. Bracbin is still watching him. 

_Who?_ Hux questions in a slight panic. Surely he hasn't forgotten somebody else's name. 

_Just trust me._

Hux doesn’t snort at the statement, but it’s a near thing. Instead, he finds himself doing exactly that, trusting Kylo. It’s not as if Hux can actually tell Bracbin where he would like for him to take his inquiries, and he can’t seem to think of anything else to say in response to the man. 

“Indeed,” Hux manages after what feels like an hour but he knows was less than thirty seconds. “And how is Isabella?” 

The color immediately drains from Bracbin’s face and the man stands there, gaping for a few long moments. Hux feels a rush of power at the shock and fear radiating off of him. Oh, if his sixteen year old self could see this. 

“Excuse me,” Bracbin manages eventually, hurrying off and disappearing into the crowd. Hux watches as a droid appears to wipe up the small drop of whisky, giving off a pleasant trill of beeps as it concludes before it's rolling away again. Hux sips his wine, turns his mind to Kylo. 

_And who exactly is Isabella?_

_I’ll tell you later._

_You most certainly will._

And so that is how the evening passes, with Kylo in his head whispering to him all the secrets of Hux’s conversation partners. Hux doesn’t dare use them against anyone else after Bracbin, not yet anyway, but he feels quite alive with the knowledge he now holds over so many of them. It makes him feel back in control, of both himself and his guests. It’s terrifying and exhilarating how easily Kylo retrieves these secrets, presents them to Hux with an almost eager air. Like a loyal pet waiting for his treat. All the while Kylo and his mask remain tucked away in his little corner, an unwavering presence with an eyeless gaze that pierces Hux to his core all the same. 

Eventually, the sensation of Kylo all around and within him starts to make him feel slightly antsy and he finds himself glancing over to where the other man stands more and more frequently. He decides that he can likely retire now without raising any eyebrows, or at least not too many. He's made his necessary appearance, rubbed elbows, and now he will take his leave. 

He turns to his current guest, somebody that Kylo has informed him is draining money from one of the Order's biggest weapons suppliers. Interesting, exploitable, not his problem. _Perfect_. He clears his throat before interrupting a boastful tangent on the man's recent promotion. 

"I apologize, but something has come up. I do hope you enjoy the rest of your evening." 

He turns before the man can respond and heads toward where Kylo stands in the far corner. He is silent when Hux reaches him and Hux takes time to carefully place his empty glass on a nearby table. Kylo continues to stare at him, his dark head slightly tilted as he observes Hux. Hux watches him in return, not speaking. 

Eventually, from behind the mask, "You seem...better." 

__

__

It's strange to hear him through the vocoder after having his unfiltered voice sitting directly within Hux's mind the entire evening. Hux finds that he detests it more than usual. 

“Are they looking at me?" Hux asks in response. 

There's a beat of silence and then Hux feels a very slight prickle of static near his ears. 

"Not anymore," Kylo murmurs. 

____Hux reaches out, places his hand over Kylo's sternum, just below the arch of his ribs. The black of his glove nearly blends into the black of Kylo's tunic. He spreads his fingers out and lets them rest there. He feels Kylo take a deep breath, hears the slight hiss through his mask as he releases it. Kylo doesn't move. Hux allows the right side of his mouth to pull slightly upward._ _ _ _

____"Concentrating?" he asks. Kylo doesn't speak, but he dips his head once in acknowledgement. "There are quite a lot of people here, it must be quite the feat to be sure that their attention is elsewhere.” Kylo still doesn’t vocally respond, and Hux knows he’s playing it up, knows that Kylo could manage this and ten other things at the same time without issue._ _ _ _

____Pleasure curls low in Hux’s stomach and he grins, leans in to speak in a low voice, his cheek brushing the cold metal of the mask._ _ _ _

____“Good boy."_ _ _ _

____This time when Kylo pulls in a breath it's quicker, and he holds it in his chest for a few long seconds. There’s a slight shake beneath Hux’s fingers when he finally lets it out. He pushes himself back with the hand on Kylo, relishing the solidity of his stomach and the way Kylo doesn't sway at all with the pressure._ _ _ _

____He slips a gloved finger beneath the material of Kylo's sleeve and brushes lightly against the skin of his inner wrist above Kylo's own glove. Kylo's hand twitches with the contact._ _ _ _

____"Come along then, Ren," Hux says after a beat, breaking the contact and pivoting suddenly on his heel, heading toward the nearest exit._ _ _ _

____He doesn't bother looking back to see if he is followed._ _ _ _


End file.
